Once Every Fifty Years
by twinchopsticks
Summary: A body cripled, bloody, butchered body lays lifeless "It's…it's just a prop…! This isn't a real person!" he tried to convince himself. But the metallic smell of blood that engulfed his senses told him otherwise... Happy Halloween! T for gore SpainxRoma


**Once Every Fifty Years**

As to be expected, the air was icy and crisp. Autumn leaves crunched and rustled as various little monsters, fairies and mummies bustled about, a bucket or pillowcase dangling from their fists. Parents tried to keep up with their hasty children, who were anything but patient to reach the next house. The more decorated houses promised better and more candy, was the children's logic, therefore they zigzagged across the street, making following them harder. Laughter and screams bounced off the houses, filling the air with excitement and adrenaline. Strange and mysterious objects swayed from porch railings and lonely tree branches. Bloody rubbery faces taunted their onlookers. Jack-o-lantern's faces glowed with happy, sad, excited and angry expressions. While plastic tombstones erected from the ground. Sometimes limbs were scattered across the yard, and bone fragments littered the garden. It was such a perfect night.

Four little ones scampered up a what looked like to be a pretty bland house. The sidewalk was not decorated, and neither was the lawn. The only thing interesting about it was a green pumpkin, which illuminated thanks to glow in the dark paint smeared across its once orange surface. The eldest of the four was dressed as a samurai, his sword almost the size of him!

The second eldest attempted to be a cup of hot chocolate, his paper machete handle firmly attached to the "cup", and Styrofoam marshmallows were plopped in the "chocolate". Next was a little boy who wore an English formal suit, and a top hat, cards glued to the brim. He had two stark white gloves, and a magician's wand. The last was a little girl, who simply decided to be a geisha, her kimono fitting her well, and flowers decorated her hair. Though her wardrobe Japanese, her fan was strictly Chinese, which she mentioned to each house.

"Aiyaa…make this house quick, aru. We haven't much time…it's getting late," said their chaperone, crossing his arms.

"Awh do we have to?" the hot chocolate whined, looking into his bag, "My bag is only half full!"

"Well it's your fault you ate most of your candy in between houses," the geisha spat.

"But I was hungry!"

"But big brother was going to make us food when we got home…" the samurai inquired, fixing his helmet.

"Who cares. Knock on the door, I'm getting cold and I want to go home," the magician grumbled.

The samurai nodded and respectfully made three distinct knocks on the door. They waited. No answer.

"Try again," urged the geisha.

Three more distinct, separate knocks. Eventually, the door opened, but on its own accord. A gust of wind rushed out, as if a gas chamber had finally been released. The four tried to look inside the house, to see if any TV was blaring, or if some someone was coming around the door to offer them candy. Nothing happened, and all there was in front of them was a dark room with time period furniture. No footsteps were heard…no, "Coming!" echoed through the hallways. However, there was one thing that stuck out, a note.

_Please step inside to the left. You can get your candy there._

It read.

"Aniki! We have to go inside to get the candy!" the hot chocolate called. Their chaperone grumbled and walked up to the porch, "Okay, okay. Just hurry aru."

He wasn't worried at all about their safety, due to the fact they were all masters of martial arts…

The kids quickly entered the dark structure, and turned left. Expecting a bowl of candy on a stool, or some sort of Halloween prop to swing down from the ceiling, the kids prepared themselves. Instead, there was only a foot. Barely visible, due to it being so dark, but the could still tell it was a foot. It stuck out from behind the wall, and it looked as if someone were passed out behind that corner… The four looked at each other. Without words, the four decided to go as a group around the corner, daring to see the body of the foot.

Steadily, they crept along the wood floor, pacing themselves. For some odd reason, the air was different in this part of the house. The outside world seemed to be cut off, and the foursome felt isolated. The air was thick and heavy, as if someone were peering over them from above…

As they rounded the corner, the geisha was the first one to let out a shriek of pure terror.

Lying on the ground, was a mangled body. Its head twisted two full rotations, the skin splitting at the jaw. Its arm was completely torn off, blood gurgling from the shoulder, the bone prominently jutting out. Its legs were cracked, as there seemed to be four knees instead of two. That foot they had lead them to this gruesome sight, was actually detached from the rest of the leg, shredded off it looked like. The back was bare, and lash marks completely tore up the skin.

Blood was staining everything, and a small creek of it trickled down the tile. Fingers were disfigured and pieces of flesh and bone were tossed about carelessly. Chunks of the body were missing, and were found either plastered to the wall or somewhere else near by. The other limbs were also either bent in the wrong way, or bloodied with gashes four inches in, or both.

It was even worse when the four young children registered that the face was _looking. At. Them. _The eyes were not closed, they were pried open. Staring lifelessly at them, observing their every move. The deformed carcass's lips were twisted into an awkward half smile, the teeth stained red. There was no tongue. Blood drizzled down from its mouth, and dripped steadily off the dead man's chin, onto the floor.

The geisha darted out of the house, screaming, then clinging to her brother. The hot chocolate and magician quickly followed, desperate to reach the door only three feet away. However, the samurai stared, almost preoccupied by the butchered body in front of him. He swallowed.

_It's…it's just a prop…! This isn't a real person!_ he tried to convince himself. But the metallic smell of blood that engulfed his senses told him otherwise. He began to back away, still staring at the dull green orbs that stared into his eyes… They blinked. Once. Twice. Then its head began to move. It slowly, in a painfully slow manner, a crackling noise accompanying the movement, lifted to get a better look at the small boy.

The carcasses' mouth twitched and the samurai's ears barely caught the raspy whisper of, "Happy Halloween."

The samurai dashed outside, crying and screaming. He shook and trembled, tears flooding his eyes. His cheeks were red, and his throat became sore only after a few seconds from screaming.

The four children clung to their brother as if their lives depended on it. All their eyes shut, trying to shut out the gruesome scarring image of the dead man in the kitchen. They hollered and wailed, saying things (or at least trying to) in different languages.

Maybe a bit of Japanese, then switching to Korean.

The chaperone brother blinked, alarm pulsing through his veins. Immediately, he ushered his siblings away from this what seemed to be a demonic house. He tried to comfort them, but he could not. Desperately, they were lead away from the horrible place, and the big brother took a quick glance at the house, and immediately, he sensed an evil immersing from inside…

In the kitchen, the body laughed. The lights flickered on and another body, a perfectly healthy one, slid out of the shadows.

"Oh that was such an overkill!" it frowned, disapprovingly.

The disfigured, butchered body 'tsked'. Simply, he re-twisted his head, refiguring it to its natural direction and anatomy. His connected arm fluently lifted and he stretched. His hand that was crumpled like aluminum foil sprang back to its original shape. Slowly but surely, the entire body itself mustered itself back into the form of a regular human being.

After the blood drained _back_ into the body, and after all the veins and nerves were naturally re-connected, the body of a young man was recreated. He stretched, yawning.

"It was not an overkill," he argued.

"Yes it was, Lovi!" the other man cried, "You scarred those poor children horribly! Especially that cute little samurai…"

"So what, Antonio? It's not like I'm ever going to see them again."

Lovi had green olive eyes, now sparkling, and short hair that parted towards the left of his head. A bouncy, peculiar piece of curled hair stuck out on the right side of his head. He was lean, and his complexion was an olive tan. He wore a scowl and stared at the other man before him.

This man had curly brown locks, and extremely bright emerald green eyes. His skin was tanner than the other boy's, and he was taller. His body was toned better, with muscles that rippled if he moved. His accent was thick and Spanish. His smile melted any one who witnessed it.

"Lovino, why did you do that? That was so mean!" Antonio whined.

"Well I'm sorry I got so bored just sitting there with a creepy grin on my face. I at least wanted to splash some blood in there," he brushed himself off.

"Your entire blood supply out in the open is a little more than a splash, Lovi."

"_Don't call me that!_"

Antonio sighed, and shook his head. His hand grasped Lovino's, and his fingers intertwined with the other's.

"It's time to go back," Antonio murmured.

"…Yes."

Silently, the two walked inwards into the house, reaching a doorway. The doorway was as simple as any doorway in any house. Wooden, and white. The doorknob was a sparkling brass that looked as if it were polished every hour. It was actually very tall, and thinner than an average door too. Antonio sighed, and gripped the doorknob. He turned it slowly, cautiously.

"Hurry up, damn it," Lovino sighed. However, he squeezed Antonio's hand a bit harder. Antonio shot him a look of, "I'm getting there", and re-directed his attention to the door. He opened it, the hinges swaying easily, without one hint of rust. As the door swung open, a mix of red and white light shimmered through the doorway itself. It was like the aurora borealis, the colors merging and mixing, swirling together in different patterns. The couple stared at it for a moment.

"…Are you ready, mi amor?" Antonio said, his voice hard.

Lovino swallowed, "I kind of have to be, bastard."

Antonio sighed, and kissed Romano lightly on the lips, "Everyone has to go through it, you know."

"I know. I just hope…it won't be bad. Last time…it…really…" Lovino trailed off. Antonio nodded, hugging him tightly.

"Si…I understand. But don't worry, it will get better. It will refresh itself eventually…"

Lovino nodded, biting his lip.

"I'll go first," the taller of the two insisted. Lovino didn't let go of his hand, as Antonio stepped into the strange mixture of light. He squeezed his eyes shut, as Antonio let out a harsh wail of pain. He shrieked and hollered, screaming and flailing, yet his hand stayed gripped to Lovino's.

The second jumped in next, feeling the same thing. Lovino tried so hard not to scream. He really did. He always tried not to scream. But the pain was too much.

All the mixture of physical and emotional pain rushed through his system. The pain of being sliced in half, or the pain of your love dying a tragic death. The physical feel of each of your limbs being torn off, and the feel of your scalp being sliced off. He felt it all. _They_ felt it all. Mental pain, emotional pain, physical pain… It all bombarded their bodies and systems. They of course could do nothing about it. All they could do was endure it until they reached the other side. In about an hour, they would be violently kicked out of the light…in just about an hour…

Like a spinning wheel, all the pain raced around them, until gradually, the pain died off.

…

Well not completely.

Violently, they were shoved forcefully out of the mixture of red and white, as if the existence of the light spat them out, disgusted with their presence. Lovino and Antonio were now sprawled across a cobblestone street. They would've had tears racing down their cheeks, but tears no longer existed for the two. They were gasping and sputtering, moaning and crying. Their eyes stared upwards, trying to process where they were, and what their Pain was. As their Pain was being decided for them, the two shakily realized that their two hands were still clasped together.

Tightly, they were squeezing, their muscles aching from holding onto each other for so long. After about ten minutes, Antonio and Lovino's breathing became regular. The first one to sit up was Antonio, who was still, trembling.

"…My Pain…" he said mechanically, "My Pain is that of Loss."

Loss was a common Pain. Loss was simply the mental and emotional pain of losing someone you love dearly to death. Antonio put a hand over his mouth, and he squeezed his eyes.

Lovino still laid down, trying to allow his Pain to register in his mind… _Oh._ Oh, please! No. No, no, no! Not that Pain! Anything but that! Lovino sat up, and let out a cry of frustration, and he looked at the door that had spat him out. The door sat, in the middle of the street, white, with a brass handle. Lovino jumped up, unwillingly letting go of Antonio's hand, and beginning to pound on the door.

"My Pain!" Lovino announced, "My Pain is that of Guilt!"

He pounded on the door, noises of anger and frustration escaping his lips. His fists hit the door repeatedly, and he knew far too well that he could not go back. Antonio hopped up, wobbled a bit, before grasping Lovino's waste, "S-Stop!"

Lovino squirmed and struggled, trying to open the door.

"N-No! I don't want this Pain! Please! Please!" he begged, pleaded.

"Lovino! You can't change your Pain…! I'm sorry!" Antonio squeezed harder, "You know you can't! I know you can't! So please, don't argue with it! It's-It's not going to _help anything!_"

Lovino struggled more, kicking and flailing, until his body grew tired. He collapsed at the base of the door, his hands on his head.

"I don't want Guilt anymore…!" he muttered, "I don't want the Pain of Guilt anymore!"

Antonio tried to shake off his Pain a bit, before resting a hand on Lovino's shoudler, "…Por favor…"

Lovino shook his head.

Guilt was a common Pain as well, but it was a harsh pain. A pain that no one ever wanted. Though it does not seem like a horrible Pain, having to deal with Guilt for every day, every night, for fifty years was not good. It hurt everyone, even the strong-willed. Lots of times, when people are given Guilt, they are forced to look at everything they had felt guilty for, when they were alive. That feeling of Guilt was boosted, causing one extreme emotional exaustion. Lovino had had Guilt for three terms.

When Pain is decided for a dead person's term, it usually is random. But for certain people, it is not. Lovino was one of these people.

An exception to the Pain is once every fifty years. Not everyone's schedule is synched the same way, but every Halloween, marking their anniversary of their last term, the dead are allowed to freely walk the earth for 24 hours. In any shape or form. They are allowed individual mental, emotional and physical freedom. They may feel what they want to feel, away from their given Pain. But then they are forced back to the world of the dead, where another term begins.

Lovino sat, on the street, being held by Antonio. Antonio nuzzled Lovino's neck, and kissed it a few times, "I'm…I'm really, truly sorry, Lovino."

Lovino nodded, holding Antonio's hand. A pregnant silence ensued.

"…I'm remembering…the time…I had hurt you," Lovino whispered blandly, "…and I feel guilty, for have hurting you so much."

Antonio blinked. That time? He was thinking of that time? That time when Lovino had…chosen money over him…that time…when Lovino had moved far away, for money, and left him behind…for five long years…

"…That is my Guilt, Antonio…and…I have to deal with it…for every day, for fifty years…"

* * *

><p><strong>Ah...my first Fanfic...and look how horrible it is. It's Halloween in two days so I'm like: what the hell. :'D this is a weird story I know. but i started with absolutely no plot, except that Spain and Roma were dead and came to earth for Halloween. Don't ask why Korea is hot chocolate. I couldn't think of anything else. I only write at night because that's the only time I get for inspiration :T ... and HK is a magician because he can be. fyi: couldnt think of a good title<strong>

**now for a little self critique: the last few parts are not fluent and clear enough. It's probably somewhat choppy and rushed. I used adjectives probably a bit too repeatedly and didn't expand my word choice. **

**Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors... **

**Anyways, thanks for reading! Happy Halloween! Review!**

**-TC**

**Hetalia does not belong to me, it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. **

**Spain, Romano, China, Japan, , Hong Kong and Taiwan also do not belong to me. **


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